Danger and Mint and Boy and Home
by luluvee
Summary: A lazy morning in the life of Edward Cullen and Bella Swan. Short little one shot written for the Fandom Texas Wildfire Relief compilation.


**Title: Danger and Mint and Boy and Home**  
><strong>Penname: luluvee<strong>  
><strong>Rating: M<strong>  
><strong>Summary: A lazy morning in the life of Edward Cullen and Bella Swan. One shot written for the Fandom Texas Wildfire Relief compilation<br>**

:: :: ::

The steady beat of fingers walking up and down my spine harkens me to consciousness. I can feel the warmth of the sun beating down my back and the cooling chill of a breeze as it brushes over my skin. The fingers slow as I stretch slightly beneath them and I revel in the slight burn as my muscles protest my movements.

"Oh, Bella…" It's a low tune in familiar tones, all husky and warm like the blanket tangled between my knees.

The fingers begin their movement again, tiny feet jogging circuits around my shoulder blades, sliding up-down-up-down-up-down the discs of my backbone then dancing in the shallow curve where my back meets my lower half. I can't help the purr that leaves me as they dance their waltz.

"Good morning, love," dulcet tones sing in my ear, each syllable elongated for maximum tonal effect. "Wake up, my sunshine."

I bury my face in the pillow beneath me, grunting my displeasure at the early hour. It smells like danger and mint and boy and home and I breathe deep once before shaking my head again. The aural velvet just chuckles lowly, soothing me with a warmth from the inside out. Conversely, the fingers finish their tango and begin a clean up, sweeping their dance floor in long arcs that delve lower and lower and dangerously lower with every pass.

"C'mon, Bella," the vocal silk cajoles and, as enticing as it sounds, I'd rather stay here, just like this, all day long. There is a growl, a sound so familiar that a tingle forms in my toes and begins creeping up my body like a generator slowly emitting an electric current. The satin whisper has changed now, taking on a deliciously dangerous timbre. "Oh, do you want to play hooky today?"

The thought is instantly appealing.

"Don't want to go to school today?" the melodious tenor queries. "Want to skip work and just stay in bed all day?"

I sigh a happy sigh, imagining just that. Staying in bed all day, naked and with Edward. There are worse things in life I could be doing than missing a little school and work. Definitely worse things.

I want to do some of those worse things today.

"And just what, exactly, would you do all day, naughty Miss Swan?" the sweet, sexy voice intones. The fingers finish their sweep and are now patrolling, stalking with purpose up one thigh and down the other, moving further and further inland as they make the rounds.

The current is amping up with every second and I can practically feel the cracking of electric lust beginning to build in my body, being contained beneath my skin like wire casing. My body starting to hum, and I feel like one of those plasma globes at a science centre, where you can see the arms of electricity buzzing and crackling in the huge glass globe.

"Oh, Bella, Bella, Bella," he sings lowly with a _tsk _ in his tone as the fingers slide through the slickness covering my skin at the top of my thighs. "You're _so_… _bad_… I wonder just _what_ you're thinking about."

I try and bite back the moan that bubbles out of me but it's futile; it escapes me in an instant, transforming my warm, lazy morning into a bed of wanton lust. A weight that's warmer than the fleece blanket at my feet covers me and I smell danger and mint and boy and home again, but stronger than the lingering fragrance that clings to my pillows. This is potent, intoxicating, straight from the source. I can't help but moan again as the aroma that I instantly associate with _Edward_ blankets me.

I can feel him, hear him, breathe him in. If I flip over, I'd see him and most likely be able to taste him, too. But there is something else, a part of him that almost demands my attention any time he is near. I have a sixth sense for him, an awareness that transcends any sort of normal meaning.

I giggle quietly as his hard presses into my soft. I love this, the dichotomy of _us_: physically, I conform to him but in every other way… well, he's given up so much to be with me and I have to remind myself to never take that for granted.

"Laughter is _not_ the reaction I was looking for, glorious," his deep, melodious voice chides as he rocks his hips against my backside. The sharp intake of breath that I make pleases him more than my giggles and he chuckles lowly in my ear. "Much better, glory… Much, much better."

I feel his hands grip my thighs and my skin tingles deliciously as the warm weight of his fingers presses into my muscles. The pressure stays even and consistent as it moves up over my hips and waist, tickling at my ribs then coming around to palm at my breasts. His thumbs run circles over the taut peaks of my nipples and the electricity is back. I'm a live wire, the current of lust ready to trip at any given moment.

"Oh, Edward…"

"Shhh, glory…" He strums my peaked flesh with his thumbs again and I press back against him. I can feel his warm skin against mine, his hardness even hotter where it meets my own flesh and I revel in the satisfaction that I am the only one that can make him like this, the only one who gets to feel him like this.

At an excruciatingly slow pace, Edward drags his hands away from my chest. His left covers my right that is tightly fisting a handful of pillow; his right disappears from my body entirely and I wonder why until I feel himself guiding the tip of his hot, hard erection to the hotter slickness between my thighs.

"Ungh, God, you're glorious, baby," he grunts as he pushes into me at a controlled measure. I beg him to go faster, the words lost in one billion and six thread count Egyptian cotton and goose-down, as I squeeze the fingers he's threaded through mine.

I can feel every molten centimetre of him, pushing and caressing me from the inside out. He's slow and steady, methodical and precise; the only sign that he's affected just as much as I am is the occasional grunted curse that leaves his lips and the quickness of his breath against my nape.

"Feel me, glory," he rasps, dragging his teeth across my shoulder. The prickling sting only serves to heighten the agonizing pleasure my body is feeling all over, right from the tips of my toes to every last follicle of hair on my head. "Feel me. I can feel you, glory… It's – _fuck _ – You're so – _yesss_ – God, glory… _Yes._"

"Faster, Edward," I manage to whimper. I try to move my hips back, drive him towards the frenzy that I'm already experiencing, but his weight on mine is enough to keep me locked against the bed, at his complete mercy.

He moves and I feel and I can feel myself going insane and the scent of him is the only thing I can really register in my brain.

Danger.

Mint.

Boy.

_Home_.

A heavy pressure against my clit sends me into a screaming tailspin, my orgasm suddenly arriving and lifting me out of my body to ride the crashing waves of bliss that Edward has created for me. Through it all, the only thing that is keeping me grounded is the danger, the mint, the boy, the home.

"God… Glory, you're – _fuck_, _shit_ – amazing…"

I slowly return to the awareness of Edward above me, clutching me with a grip that could rival that of a machine and cursing my praises in a way that would make a drunken sailor take offense. Though I've passed the height of my climax, I haven't left it behind completely: I'm drifting in paradise and Edward's movements are keeping me from coming down.

"Again," he whispers dangerously in my ear. His breath is warm and cool at the same time, igniting my nerve endings and sending me towards the swirling inferno of pleasure once again. "Fuck… Come for me again, glory."

I feel his thumb bear down on the glorious pressure point on my hip as his other does the same once again on my clit.

And I'm gone.

"Come back to me, Bella…"

The fingers are back, dancing a sloppy foxtrot up and down one arm as the dulcet tones whisper with amusement in my ear. But I don't listen, I ignore the feel.

Instead, I let myself drift off to sleep with his weight on my back and the scent of danger and mint and boy and home surrounding me.


End file.
